


My Little Halfling

by OfDarkMind



Category: The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M, movieverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-21
Updated: 2013-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-05 08:43:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1091912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OfDarkMind/pseuds/OfDarkMind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The night they spent in Beorn's house. After being attacked by Azog and rescued by the eagles. Thorin shows appreciation to an uncertain and confused hobbit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Some may recognize this from FF.Net. I removed it from there because there was too many kids watching me. (kids I know I.E, nieces and nephews) I did not want them to see this sort of thing from me. I had looked it over and fixed some continuity errors and all that... but warning. I am not a grammatical genius. There is bound to still be mistakes. Also, in light of the story, let us say Oin is asleep through all of this, otherwise Bilbo and Thorin wouldn't enjoy their um... thingy.
> 
> Enjoy :)

When they arrived at Beorn’s house Thorin had not been too keen to remove the leathers and furs to see the extent of the damage afflicted by the white warg. He knew there was blood seeping from shreds in his sides where the white warg’s teeth tore the material. Dwarves weren’t spleeny when it came to injuries, especially superficial ones as he was sure these were, not even too much with deeper wounds, that Thorin was almost positive at least the one under his left side ribs was the deepest. To take a deep breath sent stabbing pains of electricity, exquisitely up his back and chest. He tried in vain to hide it, but it was noticed.  
“Thorin, you should let us take a look at it.” Balin said as he walked over to his friend. All Balin could see was the back of Thorin’s head, the labored heave of his shoulders as he fought to draw air without wincing. He growled despairingly to himself, wishing his old friend would just leave him be. He is proud… strong, of royal kind and it is so unlike him to show weakness from small and inconsequential injuries.  
“I’m fine.” Thorin said irritably. Balin sighed and put a hand on Thorin’s shoulder.  
“Laddie… I know you’re strong. You don’t have to bear the pain of your wounds to prove that. Dwalin can~’ Thorin turned his head as fast as he could to face Balin, looking up at the older dwarf with the snow white hair and grimaced. The moonlight that cast through the window made the blue of Thorin’s eyes appear to glow. He didn’t want to express irritation to Balin… he knew his friend was only concerned for his well being, more so than Balin probably felt it was his obligation to care for him thusly. Still, don’t press the issue if it is not necessary and the thought of Dwalin having a grin on his face as he soldered his skin shut didn’t appeal much to Thorin however good the intention was.  
“Your brother would use a heated sword tip to close the wound.’ Thorin muttered and looked away from his friend. “Forgive me if that is just a little too barbaric for my taste.”  
“Tis better than letting it stay open and getting you sick. If you won’t let Dwalin take care of it, then at least let Bilbo look at it.” Balin said softly, squeezing Thorin’s shoulder. Thorin’s brow line connected.  
“I did not figure the halfling was inclining to remedy injuries.”  
‘I have helped in the care of farm animals. I told Balin this… he seemed to think it was good enough experience.” Bilbo said quietly, blushing and looking down a little as he came out from behind Balin and looked at Thorin, whose intense eyes bore into him again.  
“Farm animals…’ Thorin repeated. Bilbo swallowed nervously.  
“I told him it was only farm animals… I never claimed to know how to patch up dwarves.”  
“It’s better than having my skin melted together with a hot blade.” Thorin said and started gingerly stripping off his leathers and furs. Bilbo flushed when Balin reached around and started to help Thorin remove the materials that hid from them a very lovely figure. Bilbo hadn’t really thought a dwarf would look like that. He was shaped like perfection contained in flesh, which is nearly impossible but for the elves. Bilbo wondered if Thorin had elf in his bloodline as some assumed the Took’s had fairy in theirs.  
From this distance Thorin’s back was smooth where Bilbo thought dwarves were generally all hairy. There was only a light smattering of hair on Thorin’s chest and stomach with a thicker patch coming up in a line under his navel. Bilbo was also under the impression all his life that dwarves were usually fatter in the stomach too. Thorin was anything but fat. His chest and belly were tight with definition and about as hard as the iron he wields. Thick, yes, but hardly the bulk of Bombur. What was a real marvel to Bilbo was the thickness of his arms. They were powerfully strong, flexing with the slightest movement. They sloped down in hands like anvils, thick callused fingers and stained from years of rock and metal work. There was no grace in his scarred arms. They looked like a blacksmith’s arms, burned numerous times and cut in a multitude of places.  
In its own way, they were beautiful. Not the sort of magic you witness in the wake of an elf. But it looked like the beauty of one who has toiled to make a living. There is beauty that one gains from having burned and scored their own skin with stories of how they were made. Bilbo had never had the opportunity until he went on this foolish adventure to really have scars and burns that told stories on their own.  
Balin’s fingers sought out every place that deemed worthy of a look in his eyes as Thorin turned grudgingly in place, feeling on display and not liking it. Bilbo watched, openly mesmerized. Thorin turned and Balin put his hands up under Thorin’s arms, making the leader of their company raise them so he could see every angle of his torso, badly wounded and bruised, in Bilbo’s initial inspection from afar.  
“This really isn’t necessary. None of these appear too bad-AGH!” Thorin groaned as Balin squeezed slightly at a swollen opening under Thorin’s left ribs. Thorin doubled slightly, his left arm coming down and the curtain of dark hair came swinging before him to block his pained face from the hobbit. Balin stood a little straighter and turned his head slightly.  
“Except that one, Laddie. Can you have a look at it, Bilbo? Does it look infected?” Balin asked. Bilbo shuffled closer to see the semi deep wound in Thorin’s side that was half clotted by his own blood. It still oozed a bit but it was no bigger around than the end of a fire poker.  
“Hold your hair over.” Bilbo said softly, there was no hiding the nervous tremor in his voice as Thorin looked at him questioningly. Balin cleared his throat.  
“Do as he says, Thorin.” He coaxed. Thorin’s eyes flitted back to Balin for a moment before falling on Bilbo again where he lifted his right arm and hooked it around the tresses that hung over his left shoulder, not grabbing all of it at once and Bilbo’s hand went up without thinking and took the soft locks in his hand and pushed them back over the warm muscled shoulder and into Thorin’s hand that had the rest of his hair away from the area to be looked at. Thorin’s face was strange, hard to read at that moment as Bilbo’s hands came away. Bilbo wondered why he even needed to remove those few strands of hair, they weren’t really in the way. Bilbo was slightly conscious of the fact that perhaps he wanted to feel Thorin’s hair; the silkiness of it sliding between his fingers.  
Bilbo was aware of how hot his face was getting and he looked down vaguely to the floor because Thorin had not taken his eyes off him. Had the dwarf suspected ulterior motives for the hobbit touching his hair? Or… was he simply just waiting? Why was Bilbo even thinking of this?  
“Not that the rest of you isn’t banged up, Laddie… but this one is the most serious and- what is it?” Balin had noticed the fleeting awkwardness on Bilbo’s face and the same adoration on Thorin’s face that he sometimes gave the hobbit since his near death experience. Bilbo jerked a little and blinked. His lips pressed together. He figured in that moment he could distract himself from the weight of Thorin’s stare by doing the task at hand.  
He knelt a little, coming closer to Thorin. He could see the dwarf’s diaphragm rising and falling with every breath and a slight reaction of his skin when a howling wind blew at the barn house and set bitter wind to his warm skin. At this close range, Bilbo could see the soft and almost invisible scars on his person unless you were really close to him and have had the pleasure of seeing him nearly naked, you’d never know he had so many of the cold marks on his body.  
“The wound is already clotting over and he isn’t bleeding excessively. It doesn’t appear red around the outside of the wound so no infection exists, which is a marvel. Who knows what sorts of devilish diseases those monsters carry. A good cleaning and dressing will take care of that wound nicely.” Bilbo said, his cheeks still red as he stood up from examining Thorin’s side.  
“No cauterization? No stitches?” Balin asked in perplexity. Thorin shot a look at the older dwarf. Did he want that sort of butchery?  
“Balin~” Thorin exclaimed as he looked questioningly down on the fluffy white hair of the older dwarf.  
“I’m a hobbit… not a healer. The most strenuous thing I do… or did by right was tending to my own house and garden. The farm animals were to pull a rock from a pony’s hoof and wash a wound on a sow’s belly from it goring itself on a fence.” Bilbo said to Balin.  
“Do what you can for me then.” Thorin said softly. Bilbo stood up straighter and looked into Thorin’s face. There was quietness there. It’s been on Thorin’s face ever since he defended him-rather clumsily Bilbo thought- against the orcs. That appreciative fondness. The hobbit felt that redness engulf his face again. He turned his face away slightly and grinned as he looked at Balin.  
“Do you have geranium root?” Bilbo said awkwardly. Balin gave him a confused twist of the mouth.  
“What on earth for?”  
“Geranium root has healing properties.” Bilbo said.”Not instant… but it helps.”  
“I can check with Oin… he usually has an arsenal of strange roots on his person at any given time.” Balin said with a sigh as he looked momentarily at Thorin before leaving him and the halfling alone to go down the adjoining hall and to find Oin.  
Thorin and Bilbo stood quietly in the room alone with one another. Bilbo couldn’t look at Thorin for some reason. He would look vaguely in his direction but never directly at him. It was like there was some sort of connection that was made every time he did happen to connect eyes with him, something that made him very uncomfortable and scared. He almost felt as if he was okay with facing the warg riding orcs again rather than be alone in a room with Thorin.  
“You’re uneasy. Why?” Thorin asked, following Bilbo’s nervous shuffle with his eyes closely.  
“I don’t know. Just… All of this is new to me.” Bilbo said, looking at the odd carving of the wooden chair, huge compared to them. Although in any other situation the chair would have naturally drawn his attention but now… it was a means to keep his eyes averted.  
“It’s overwhelming when you are not used to it. We have had to do this many times in our life. I do not begrudge your trepidation when you are so use to simple pleasures and not for the wars and problems of those outside The Shire. I feel guilty, in fact… for allowing you to be whisked away from the safety of your world. This…’ Thorin said, releasing his hair and Bilbo looked at him in enough time to see the curtain of hair fall back over his shoulder and Thorin’s two thick hands come up to indicate the wounds on his body. “Must seem terrible to you.”  
“I can’t really tell you that I have seen worse. I have been scared out of my wits since the encounter with the Trolls. That scared me but honestly… the thing that scared me most was you leaving me behind when I didn’t know where to go. Or… letting the trolls kill me…” Bilbo never spoke of these fears before now. He shuffled about agitated, wringing his fingers and blinking. Not for memory of incidents that will likely haunt him for the rest of his life, but perhaps because he didn’t want Thorin to look at him like he most certainly could feel; a mixture of pity, self blame and guilt. 

“I have made you fear me.” Thorin said. Bilbo turned his eyes to him this time and they gazed at one another. Bilbo hadn’t even realized he had walked almost clear across the room opposite Thorin after Balin left them alone.  
‘Oh…no… I was never afraid of you-I mean- I don’t ever want you to be angry with me…you’d be frightening I am sure- but I have never suspected you would harm me.” Bilbo rung his fingers more as he spoke, realized he looked pathetic and then brought his hands down at his sides, which then made him look like a statue.  
He couldn’t deny it… he was nervous… and still, despite that gratitude embrace Thorin gave him, accompanied by the warming smile and glinting eyes, Bilbo was still a bit intimidated by him. It almost felt like Bilbo saw it as he had naught the right to be in his presence, like a lowly hobbit before a great king. Bilbo turned away again.  
“Then why have you put the length of a stranger’s room between us?” Thorin tilted his head to the side a little and Bilbo could see the circumference of his ear poking slightly from under his dark tresses. Thorin’s mouth opened slightly, his lips pulling apart in a soft tug and gentle exhale as his eyes, whether connected to Bilbo’s or not, bore into him heavily.  
“I am sure it was unintentional.” Bilbo said as Balin ambled back into the room holding a small leather pouch and looking between the two as if bemused. He looked as if he wondered whether something happened that drove the two apart while he was gone. Somehow that thought weighed heavily on Balin… as if disappointed by it.  
“He… he had some, laddie. You need anything else?” Balin held out the pouch in Bilbo’s direction. Tripping forward slightly as if his furry feet weren’t his own, Bilbo took the roots from Balin and looked at the contents with every intention of keeping his eyes anywhere but on Thorin. He could still feel the heavy weight of the dwarf’s eyes on him and he longed to disappear.  
“Warm water and cotton. Anything porous that can hold fluid.” Bilbo said. Balin nodded, looking quickly between Thorin and Bilbo questioningly before turning to leave and retrieve the water. Again Thorin and Bilbo were left alone. Bilbo couldn’t just stand there with the root in his hands, he had half of what he needed and to walk away from Thorin would seem to be indicator that he didn’t want to do what was asked if him. That was not true in the slightest. Seeing Thorin so bare and exposed interested Bilbo on several levels. He swallowed. He was going to have to approach him. It was making Bilbo’s heart hammer in his throat and he was fairly certain that Thorin could hear it, if not feel it.  
Bilbo let his intuitive motor skills walk his legs in Thorin’s direction without any conscious thought of making his legs move rather the way his hand had come up to move Thorin’s hair off his shoulder. When he could no longer reasonably keep his eyes averted, Bilbo tremulously looked at the rim of Thorin’s trousers and up. Looking at him, Bilbo was finding, seemed to rob his lungs of air.  
“Do you have suggestions for the pain?” Thorin asked. Bilbo finally brought his eyes up to his subjects and flushed furiously because he noticed that Thorin’s mouth was still open slightly, the pink of his lips attractive in the sensitivity of the moment.  
“I don’t doubt you are in pain. Unless someone has ginger… or… feverfew…’ Bilbo’s words faltered as his eyes connected to Thorin’s again, ‘… the only thing I can aptly suggest is rest and a nice tea with lavender. But I don’t think tea is something dwarves are all together fond of… and not here in a strange place.”  
“I do have a small taste for tea. I do prefer ale though. Unless our host has left some for us, I don’t think we will be having any. So perhaps just a bit of rest after you have tended to me will have to suffice.”Thorin actually smiled a little, a rare occurrence Bilbo noticed and it was amazing how his face changed when he did so. He had such a kind face when he smiled and it made him all the more beautiful when he did. Bilbo felt some unknown emotion stirring in his stomach that he was fighting to keep at bay.  
Bilbo’s eyes dropped again and followed the contours of Thorin’s chest. Amazing was the first inner word to come as his eyes dipped lower to the indent between the abdominal muscles that was covered slightly in a light dusting of short hairs. Bilbo, with the geranium root in one hand, lifted his other hand dreamily and touched one of the bruises that turned the furnace tanned skin on Thorin’s chest blackish purple. His fingertips brushed the area gently, barely enough to even feel the warmth of Thorin’s skin and Bilbo shuddered because he quite plainly seen Thorin’s flesh goose up and heard him draw in a breath through his teeth.  
“I’m sorry.” Bilbo said in a squeak. Thorin watched in awe as those smaller hands tenderly touched his chest, and even though the pain was tolerable in places, there were places that the pain was intense. Somehow when Bilbo’s small warm hands touched his sorest areas, he made them feel better, even if the touch wasn’t to heal but to single out every wound personally with a brush of flesh on flesh.  
“You seem a natural to attention, little hobbit.” Thorin said in a breathy but low groan. “Every touch seems to make it feel better without the roots and bandages. I am sure you have only heard that kings have the ability to heal.” Bilbo had heard this. The hands of a king are the hands of a healer. Something he has read was said in Gondor although he was fairly certain that did not extend to hobbits, no matter what their lineage was.  
“I am not a king by any stretch of the imagination, I am just~” A finger came up under Bilbo’s chin and Thorin brought the hobbit’s attention upward so he could look him in the face.  
“You are a hero my little friend. Sell not yourself short. Don’t let my doubt of you linger. Show me my words of encouragement meant something to you, Bilbo.” Thorin whispered. Bilbo swallowed and again… his face flushed and he couldn’t help the grin as he pulled his chin from Thorin’s finger, putting at least an arms length between himself and the rightful king of Erebor as Bofur came in with a bowl of warm water and cloths in the other hand. He paused at the doorway and saw the red shine on Bilbo’s face and the slightest of smirks on Thorin’s.  
A mischievous twinkle appeared for a moment in Bofur’s dark eyes as he looked between both of them and then came in with an air of knowing something as he placed the bowl of water on the table near Bilbo and the bandages near it.  
“Balin said ye needed these. Ye need anything else?”  
“No, that will be all, Bofur… thank you.” Bilbo said, face alight, bent to take the materials in his hand.  
“Okay. I will be in the next room… everyone but Balin and I are sleeping- well, aside from you two- so whatever you do to him, you may need to keep it down… some of us are light sleepers. You don’t want anyone rushing in thinking something untoward is happening~” Bofur was saying nonchalantly with a look on his face that made Thorin’s eyes widen in warning.  
“That will be noted.” Thorin said in a tone that made Bofur smile evilly and back out of the room. Bilbo wasn’t a prude by any sense of the nature too and he was also mature enough to know exactly what Bofur may have been hinting at and the idea made his body tingle.  
He had a time of keeping his face straight as unbidden thoughts rocketed around in his head like fairies in a mason jar. He swallowed as he removed his very dirty and very weather beaten jacket, pushed up his sleeves and took the pouch of powdered geranium root and put it in the warm water. Using the tips of his fingers he stirred it about until it was somewhat mixed with the water and dropped a few bits of cloth in.  
“I will have to clean it before I bandage it… it may hurt a little.” Bilbo warned softly and he heard Thorin chuckle. He turned his head and Thorin was looking at him like he found him amusing.  
“Have… have I said something foolish?” Bilbo asked. Thorin shook his head.  
“No… I just wish you would not be so afraid of me. Pain is part of life, as is every other physical and emotional sensation.’ Thorin said chuckling. “Furthermore I am not elven glass that breaks at the slightest indifferent touch… I am a dwarf. We are hearty folk.”  
Bilbo swallowed deep in his throat as he tried to ignore the insistent urge to just turn around and admire Thorin’s presence wholly. In body… demeanor… standing… Bilbo is amazed by him, has been really ever since he first lay eyes on him way back in his hobbit hole on Bag End.  
Bilbo cupped his hands together with a sopping cloth of geranium root water and brought the dripping material to the top of Thorin’s chest where rivulet’s of water poured down over his bruised skin and let it run. The scent of the geranium infused water was pleasing and made the flesh on Thorin’s body react again. Bilbo’s hand chased the streaming water to just above the dwarf’s belt where the running water disappeared into the material.  
Bilbo watched with mounting excitement the way Thorin breathed when certain parts of his body were touched. Bilbo deliberately ran his hands over Thorin’s breast muscles in what he hoped was an innocuous manner as the two hardening crowns of his nipples passed over the sensitive middle of Bilbo’s palms drawing out a muffled exhale from the dwarf. Bilbo’s body instinctively reacted to the sound but fought to keep his breath steady and his face straight as he bent over slightly to bring the cleansing water closer to the wound in Thorin’s side.  
“I was further wrong in my initial assumption of you, wasn’t I?” Thorin said in a soft but questioning tone. Bilbo flashed a look at him, Thorin’s eyes were looking down at him the way only royalty could, that stately glance of power as if he was not all together angry and accusing Bilbo of something that may even be amusing to him.  
“Wrong in your assumption of what?” Bilbo tried to keep his face neutral but it wasn’t working. His lips belied him. They trembled because the mere heat of Thorin’s body, the weight of his stare and the blatant accusation of exactly what he was doing was making Bilbo aware of just how utterly weak he is under scrutiny. Thorin is also picking up on that fact.  
“You really are bold as brass… There I was thinking you a coward. You have proved me wrong not once but twice now in a short span of time.” Thorin said with a low purr in his tone, smiling rather than frowning. It wasn’t a happy smile… it was more of an arousing smile that made Bilbo turn red around the cheeks and ears and he looked away from Thorin and back at the wound.  
“What have I done this time?” Bilbo asked in mock conversation. He tried to ask it in a manner that didn’t suggest he already knew what it was.  
“Your hands are braver than your mouth, Mr. Baggins.”  
“I am doing what was asked of me.” Bilbo interjected.  
“And you seem to enjoy it… or am I mistaken?”  
“Why wouldn’t I enjoy helping a friend?” Bilbo looked up at Thorin.  
“To the point it steals your breath?” Thorin asked as his brow line rose.  
“You’re breathing just as heavily… your flesh has goosed up… the pinnacles of your breasts have peaked… and you speak of me breathing heavily?”Bilbo rambled off, irritated a little that Thorin had discounted his own reactions to the touches and weighed the situation by a few shaky breaths from his burglar.  
This irritation became so poignant at that moment that he pressed the cloth hard to Thorin’s side. Thorin growled and gripped at Bilbo’s wrists and pulled him to a standing position, looking him in the eyes hard and fiercely with a fire just bubbling beneath that with a mere wrong… or right Bilbo thought… word could send Thorin ablaze.  
“Why did you do that?” Thorin asked, his words bit. Bilbo blinked rapidly and didn’t attempt to pull away.  
“When I was cleaning you… the wound started to bleed. I was compressing it… that was all.” Bilbo said steadily. Thorin’s testy grip on the halfling’s wrists eased and Bilbo was able to slide them out of Thorin’s hands. Bilbo wasn’t so much angry at Thorin, nor was Thorin angry at him. They were both becoming intensely kindled though neither wanted to make the first overt move.  
Their eyes broke apart after a lengthy moment of searching each other’s depths and Bilbo cleared his throat, putting his eyes back on the attention to Thorin’s wounds rather than the raging heat rocketing around his middle. He knelt down on one knee to attend to some minor scratches on Thorin’s lower belly and was so embarrassed that he had because it centered his face where Thorin could easily take advantage.  
Bilbo wondered that if Thorin had made a move like that, if he would be able to stop it. Tentatively he dabbed at the cuts there and Thorin stayed still but for his steady breathing and tipping his head forward to watch Bilbo work unencumbered by his accusations. His hair fell forward over his chest smoothly like silk.  
Bilbo could see it swinging enticingly over his head, the glint of the silver beads occasionally catching the soft ambient light from the window. Once Bilbo had realized he was dabbing at the wound for an unnecessarily long time he dropped the rag, seeing the area red from where it was raw and inflamed and he placed his hands tenderly on Thorin’s hip bones, more to steady himself than to do anything else, he leaned forward and blew on the sore area with his warm breath. He heard Thorin moan slightly.  
‘That is wonderful.” Thorin said, his head tipped back and his eyes closed. Bilbo liked the way it sounded and did it more, bringing his mouth closer to that area as if closer contact would make the sensation even more wonderful. Bilbo closed his eyes as he bathed Thorin’s lower belly with his breath and so dearly wanted to taste that area under Thorin’s navel. An embarrassed smile played his lips at his own thoughts.  
Thorin looked down and could see Bilbo’s intent… he could also see down the back of Bilbo’s shirt and he bit his lip. He wasn’t scared to make a move like this, what he was afraid of is startling the hobbit… making him back away. Thorin brought his fingers up to Bilbo’s shoulder, tracing the slender muscle gently and was rewarded with a soft tremble from his little halfling. His little halfling… Thorin liked the sound of it in his head. If it sounded that lovely in his head… how would it sound being said with his lips?  
“…My little halfling…” Thorin whispered. His breath momentarily froze in his throat as Bilbo looked up at him slightly startled.  
“…w…what?” Bilbo looked as if he would faint. Thorin moved his hand from Bilbo’s shoulder to the back of his neck and slid his fingers down the back of Bilbo’s shirt between his skin and the material.  
“…you have scratches on your back.” Thorin said. Bilbo indeed did have scratches on his back and as Thorin traced them, Bilbo winced and instinctively flinched away, which brought his chest to bump into Thorin’s thighs and his cheek to touch the area Bilbo imagined violating with his lips and teeth.  
“I’m… I am alright. I didn’t even notice they were there until you pointed them out.” Bilbo said as he stumbled to his feet, pulling away from Thorin and contact with him. Thorin stood there with his hand raised in mid air from where his hand came free of Bilbo’s shirt and looked only mildly disconcerted with the way Bilbo reacted. Thorin was confused… either Bilbo wanted him or he didn’t… it was only a matter of Bilbo coming to grips with which one it was.  
“Dare I ask you to let me help you? Or will you run from me again?” Thorin turned the same hand that was down Bilbo’s shirt over in a gesture of supplication. Bilbo flushed and closed his eyes, shaking his head softly.  
“Don’t… don’t do that…’ He muttered. Thorin dropped his hand and walked over to him slowly.  
“Don’t do what? Offer my services?” Thorin nearly swaggered over much to Bilbo’s barely hidden delight.  
“That’s not all you’re offering me, is it?” Bilbo asked honestly. Thorin smiled softly, his blue eyes sparkled as he lifted his hands and slid his thick fingers under the straps of Bilbo’s suspenders and slowly brought them up on the hobbits shoulders before pulling them down over his arms. Thorin released the suspenders and Bilbo was forced to hold on to his trousers as Thorin’s fingers slowly and dutifully unbuttoned his shirt to expose his chest.  
“I am merely extending the same courtesy you showed me…” Thorin said so softly Bilbo could barely hear it. His eyes, half lidded, were on the flex of Thorin’s arms, the thick muscles and moving flesh of every part of him in the action to remove his shirt. Bilbo’s mouth parted slightly.  
“I’m not worthy of you.’ He said… thinking of Thorin’s apparent as King under the mountain status. Thorin didn’t smile, not even a little. His face was serious… his eyes steady as he parted the material and pulled it down over Bilbo’s shoulders.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> aaaaw yis... pronz

“Do not place your value against my desire. Not after all you have done for me.” Thorin stepped a little closer and Bilbo started to tremble. He looked up at Thorin slowly and unsurely. Bilbo was suddenly very aware of how hot he was around the cheeks. It wasn’t a mere flush of the skin… it was like fire was set to his pours. He was perspiring slightly. The air in the room meeting his flesh where Thorin had exposed it made him withdraw a little as if evading the cold, leaving him breathless and panting. Thorin is so beautiful in the soft blue white moonlight coming through the window he looked magical; it brought out the blue of his eyes. How they gleam with a shine of a rearing yearning. Bilbo wondered if he looked that enticing in the same light. He had a notion he may look ridiculous.

“I have done nothing more than what a friend would do. In any case, I haven’t finished with your wound yet.” Bilbo said honestly and no matter how close Thorin moved into him, he did not back away until he could nearly feel the blood flowing in the dwarf king’s veins. Thorin’s knuckles ran down his soft bare chest as Bilbo spoke. Thorin’s mouth, open in wonder as he slid his thick fingers up under Bilbo’s ribs, circling to his back where he pulled the smaller to himself with a grunt of pleasure.

“What of the wound in my heart?” Thorin’s thick fingers came up Bilbo’s spine between his shoulder blades and down again forcing Bilbo to lift his arms, placing his hands on Thorin’s bare and rock hard shoulders.

“Thorin…’ Bilbo stammered as the soft lips of the dwarf lowered to his, the very skin of Thorin’s lips brushing the merest dew off Bilbo’s cheek with a swift and heated pass. Bilbo reacted as if someone had put a burning brand on his flesh to solder the meat there. He gasped several times, he attempted once to pull away but Thorin held tight to him pressing his already moist and heated mouth to Bilbo’s neck, passing an aggressive tongue over the tender muscles, feeling as he did, Bilbo’s swallow reflex and his fingers dig into his shoulders.

“Bilbo… _oh_ … my heart aches at how I have misused you. Thought you lowly. Again, I was wrong. So wrong…’ Thorin said into the halfling’s hair as he pressed into him harder. Bilbo’s fingers clawed fiercely at Thorin’s broad back, his fingers getting tangled in the dark tresses.

“Don’t…Thorin. You don’t have too.” Bilbo whispered. Bilbo did not want Thorin to feel guilt and in the same instance he was so aroused by it. Perhaps because he had never felt anything like as fine as this before in his life. He has had pleasure before… but not by a dwarf… and a king at that. He lifted his glassy eyes up to Thorin’s face as they came apart for a brief moment. Thorin’s hand, so big and strong, came up and cupped the side of Bilbo’s face..

“Yes I do. I was so cruel to you.” His said in a low moan. “You don’t have to be afraid, little one… I won’t harm you. I promise.” Thorin half closed his eyes again as he lowered his mouth to Bilbo’s, hovering there for the breath of a moment, feeling the halfling’s air come out in shaky puffs of fear over his face. Bilbo’s breath smelled of weed…  Thorin loved it… it made his fire rage… only too soon this fire would be an inferno unbridled.

“I… I can’t… oh…goodness…’ Bilbo whimpered as Thorin played around his face and neck, feigning the action to kiss him, or caress his skin with the scratchiness of his beard. Bilbo was confused. Bilbo felt his heart in his chest thrum. He felt fear slaking away as he smelled and felt Thorin on the cusp of kissing him.

Bilbo didn’t recollect ever feeling like this from another hobbit, was it dwarf magic or… was it the night, this place, the situation that made even the walls of Beorn’s house seem to sigh in the glow of anticipation of things to assuredly come? Bilbo slid his hands up Thorin’s back, diving his small hands into the dwarf lord’s hair and kissed him before Thorin could come to his conclusion with the breadth of a few drawn out seconds. Thorin’s knees buckled a little before he regained his composure.

They kissed for an eternity in that moment, gentle pulls of lip and tongue, beard and mustache against smooth skin scratched and licked, heat rising from the two mouths like steam from the precipice of two apertures of dueling volcanoes. Bilbo’s hands deep in Thorin’s thick hair, feeling the braids and beads. Thorin’s hands trembling out of contained passion sliding down to rest at the small of Bilbo’s back.

Thorin’s tongue had found its way into Bilbo’s mouth, tasting him profoundly.  He growled deep in his throat as Bilbo let out the softest of cries, a tear blossoming in the corner of the halfling’s eye at the exquisite sensation and flavor of the dwarf king’s lips and tongue. Thorin picked Bilbo up by placing his hands up under the smaller’s backside and hefting him off his feet. Bilbo wasn’t heavy by any means and with the halfling’s arms now firmly around Thorin’s neck, he wasn’t in danger of falling as Bilbo planted his heels on the back of Thorin’s knees.

“Th…Thorin… wait, we shouldn’t.” Biblo panted as he offered his neck to Thorin, who took it gratefully with a sigh.

“Hush… it’s alright.” Thorin caressed and massaged Bilbo’s backside, feeling intense arousal churning his insides, thinking to himself he needed to keep his passion in check lest he hurt the hobbit, but was surprised when it was Bilbo who, in a strange way to say it, drew first blood by nipping at Thorin’s lower lip, causing a fair bit of pain enough to glass up Thorin’s eyes. He grunted and pulled his face away from Bilbo, whose cheeks were red and wet from his excitement. Thorin looked at him intensely… almost like he was angry at the nip to his mouth, Bilbo’s breath caught in his throat.

“I’m sorry…’ Bilbo spluttered. Far from the pain making Thorin angry, again… it turned into an ever larger flame, the fire tongues licking the reserve to not hurt the hobbit with the ferociousness of his hunger. Thorin growled in appreciation, liking this slightly more aggressive maneuver, lifting the hobbit and bringing him closer.  The lover in him rearing its head, the foolishness the conquest of a mate making his stately elegance run out the window so only a bare instinct remained.

“You know how to entice me, Master Baggins.’ Thorin started to walk forward effortlessly as if Bilbo weighed nothing more than a pence. ‘What other pleasantries do you hide from me…?” Thorin rumbled as his knees met the side of the ottoman, high enough off the floor and wide enough for Thorin and Bilbo to lay on like a bed even though it was merely a footrest to Beorn. Thorin set Bilbo down on the edge of the ragged and faded blue upholstered ottoman and lead the hobbit to lay fully on his back with his bigger and bulkier form over him.

The slopes of muscle on Thorin’s body shined with fevered sweat and heaved as he attempted to contain the beast of his lust from ravaging the smaller dainty.  Thorin’s hands roughly… just shy of hurting him… rubbed at the halfling’s chest and stomach, imagining the halfling sinking his teeth into his shoulder in the moment of rampant arousal before he remembered it wasn’t a dwarf under him. He leaned forward, bringing himself down between Bilbo’s legs with a slow whine in his throat.

“Oh my go- oh… wait a moment…’ Bilbo muttered in a high pitch, his thighs opening to let the weight of the dwarf between them and settle, pressing him where the hardness had already begun to pulsate and peak. It was evident by the look on Thorin’s face that waiting a moment was not going to happen. He didn’t need the subtle shake of his head to indicate his statement would be ignored. Yet, he did not mind.

Bilbo didn’t recollect ever being so besotted so fast and he was mystified by it. Thorin bent over him, the long curtain of his hair and braids coming down on both sides, blocking the light from allowing Bilbo to see Thorin’s face. Bilbo decided he would not let anything, even Thorin’s hair hide that face from him. He reached his hands upward and pulled all of Thorin’s hair over one shoulder so that it tickled his left arm and cheek while the entire right side of Thorin was alight from the of the moon beaming down on them.

While resting on his right elbow, Thorin used his left hand to trace down Bilbo’s torso. Bilbo wasn’t muscular… he was more streamline with the slightest of mass in his chest but nothing worthy of award, however, Thorin liked the soft milky glow of the halfling’s skin in the light, the way it reacted to him, the way it shuddered and goosed up with the merest brush of his hand.

Bilbo’s fingers played and scratched at Thorin’s beard as the dwarf king looked down on him, intensity playing his face as he struggled to place his knees up on the ottoman with Bilbo. There simply was no way unless Bilbo moved upward and Thorin didn’t want to waste time. He knew in the back of his head that anyone could walk down here and see this private act; the only thing separating them from the rest of the company is a hallway.

Bilbo brought the four fingers of both hands down Thorin’s neck, which in turn made Thorin tip his head back and close his eyes, shifting his weight slightly from left to right, bringing little chills of pleasure into the warm hard center between Bilbo’s legs and Thorin groans loudly and unintentionally, his lips part and the whites of his teeth could be seen as he drew in breath through them roughly. Bilbo’s wandering fingers coming over the sore area of his chest, displacing hairs and added the slightest of twitches with his hips, raising them upward to Thorin’s gentle sway. He looked up at Thorin frightened as a provoked whimper issued from him and in turn, the dwarf took a thicket of Bilbo’s hair, the tips of his fingers caressing the points of Bilbo’s ear, he smiled reassuringly.

“It’s okay… that sounds lovely. Your pleasure is like music…’ Thorin whispered, bringing his left hand down to run over the hobbit’s knee that was bent near his hip.

“I don’t want to make trouble should we be found.” Bilbo trilled, his back convulsively arching off the ottoman as Thorin lowered his face and buried it into Bilbo’s neck, breathing in deeply as if wanting to get a high off the scent of him.  Thorin growled lustily again as he slid slowly downward bringing the tip of his nose all the way across Bilbo’s chest and stomach drawing in long huffing breaths.

“Passion and love are innocent, my little hobbit… I wish to have you. I must give you my appreciation.” Thorin said from down near Bilbo’s navel as he sucked in bits of the flesh there and let it out with a loud sucking sound, making Bilbo’s gripping hands on his strong shoulders scrabble desperately for purchase. On his journey back up Bilbo’s chest to his left breast, Thorin lapped at the hardened pink nipple there and was rewarded with a squeak of delight and another pleasant throb from between the hobbit’s legs, the epicenter pressed hard against Thorin’s lower belly.

‘Oh lord…I want you…’ Bilbo heard himself mutter. “I need you, Thorin Oakenshield.” Thorin came up over Bilbo, his right arm coming up, so that his hand rested near Bilbo’s head. They looked at each other for a moment, their ragged breath mingling so it sounded like flutter of wings, feather light air bursting out in little spurts with hardly a draw in until they couldn’t let out any more.

“And I you… Bilbo Baggins.’ Thorin said in that low gritty voice as he passionately lowered his mouth to Bilbo’s and kissed him unlike neither of them have ever been kissed. Thorin felt in that moment that he could have abandoned everything and everyone, the quest, Erebor… the Arkenstone… just to be with Bilbo for the rest of his life… that this night would go on and on and never end and they would only drink and eat each other for nurturance and take comfort in each other’s embrace and love and absoluteness. “Now… and forever…” Thorin said as he pulled his mouth away, Bilbo following him upward as if the loss of Thorin’s mouth was uncomfortable for him.

“Forever… is a long time.” Bilbo smiled and let one of his hands come up and rest just over his head where Thorin could and did slide his hand into it, entwining his fingers into the smaller’s fingers.  
“But never long enough…” Thorin said cunningly and sadly as his left hand came down slowly, much the way Bilbo had brought his hands down Thorin’s chest, with the slow wide spread trace of fingers over flesh.

Thorin lifted only his hips off Bilbo with enough space between them to reach his hand into the opening of Bilbo’s trousers and gently touch the warm length of his sensitive area. The small hand that gripped Thorin’s other hand had tightened as he merely brushed his fingers across the heated flesh. Bilbo panted and lolled his head from side to side making little chirping sounds as his thighs quivered around Thorin’s hips. Thorin chuckled when Bilbo clapped his hand over his mouth to stifle the pleasure.

“Quite sensitive.’ He muttered as his forefinger and middle finger straddled the slighter girth between the halfling’s legs and made gentle tugging actions with it. Bilbo hand came away from his face and opened his mouth and let a quavering melodic tune rise up softly from the pit of his stomach as Thorin’s fingers stroked him. 

He couldn’t comprehend the strength of the sensation welling up inside him, slowly filling, his eyes widened and he continued to let out sharp high pitched gasps, wriggling his hips and pulling his hand free and both his own thrusting downward to take hold of Thorin’s wrist above the entrance to his trousers.

“Th…Thorin… _my goodness_ … _oh_ …’ Bilbo was looking up into a searing stare it could have roasted him alive the way Thorin’s eyes burned him.

“Yes, my little one.’ Thorin said, working at Bilbo a little rougher as the halfling responded with hard upward thrusts and the flesh between Thorin’s fingers got hotter and harder.

“Thorin! _Oh_ … Please!” Bilbo cried and Thorin growled, knowing full well the beast inside him… the one that grew out of the inferno was not going to stay contained much longer if Bilbo did his part well… and he is. Very well…

“Is it okay? Does it please you?” Thorin shifted his hand so that the entirety of his palm and fingers wrapped around the length of Bilbo and moved slowly, bringing the halfling to rise with his upward tugs. Bilbo nodded and closed his eyes and made a visible attempt to control himself by blowing out through pursed lips. His hands, which had been iron gripped around Thorin’s wrist had loosened and he turned his  own hands over, his fingers scuttling across Thorin’s lower belly looking for the rim of his trousers. When they found their mark, Bilbo did not hesitate more than a second to open his eye and see the invitation in Thorin’s eyes. Feel it too… because as soon as Bilbo’s fingers traced the material of Thorin’s trousers. Thorin lifted his hips a little more, somehow managing to get his knees on the ottoman like he wanted too before.

Thorin lifted his body up more so that his bolstering hand and arm rested near Bilbo’s left shoulder. His other hand still working the shaft under him to a peak about to break judging by the incoherent splutters and desperate moans from his halfling. Bilbo’s hands dived into the material and burrowed down until the fingers of his right hand touched the very base of Thorin’s fleshy monolith, heated and very much alive. Thorin’s hips jerked forward and again, like he had been doing, growled in delight.

Bilbo recoiled slightly and only for the briefest second before he searched around and found the tip of Thorin… the pulsing orb that slid in and rested about Bilbo’s palm perfectly like a sun kissed blossom, moist and fresh. Thorin’s reaction was profound, his brow line, always so straight and serious had actually furrowed at the bearing of such a touch to his personal body. He arched at the back, resting his forehead against Bilbo’s and he bit his lower lip hard as those delicate hands slid down the length and to the base then back up again to the tip with a quivering and mellow hum from Thorin’s chest.

“It looks like I am not the only one who is sensitive.” Bilbo said coyly and Thorin tossed his head back and hissed, his hair whipping and fanning over his back as he came up from the arch. Bilbo’s face reflected amazement of how thick and heavy Thorin’s private area. It was like his body was hewn from the heavy stone in which he lived and worked.

“Playful little sprite… with a kingly appetite of covetousness. _Met me my match_ , my halfling?” Thorin panted and bucked forward hard, bumping Bilbo up the ottoman with the force of his movement. Bilbo made a chirping sound again, the actions he made where winding Thorin up, an aggressiveness rearing its head more as he continued to slide his hand up and down the large fleshy muscle that was hard and warm to the touch and made Thorin very vulnerable.

“Perhaps yes _…”_ Bilbo said with no hesitancy, embarrassed by the heat in his words, the fervor… the blatant ardor but still he did not hesitate.

 _“Oh yes…_ ‘Thorin lengthened his torso as he drew back his hips, stretching every muscle, every bone, and every bit of him as he raised and brought his length nearly out of Bilbo’s massaging hands. “We will my sweet little Bilbo… _we will_.” His voice was nearly guttural.

Bilbo redoubled his grip of Thorin’s most intimate part and squeezed, bringing the King of Erebor to a begging and pining cry that he stifled by biting his own lips. Bilbo continued that tight grip even as he thrust his hand downward and upward again repeatedly to match how Thorin touched his. Thorin groaned through his sealed lips, removing his hand from between Bilbo’s legs and stood up on his knees, grunting and panting desperately.

 A blind lust overcoming him as Bilbo continued to hold to his intimate part. Thorin hooked his hands around Bilbo’s knees and slid them down over the slight hips pointedly thrusting his hips into the halfling’s thrusting hands, noting with some pride that it took two hands from the hobbit to hold his length.

Thorin brought his hands back toward himself and bringing the halfling’s trousers with them, pulling them down over his milky and sultry smooth thighs. It was amazing considering the amount of hair on other parts of his body. The material was free from Bilbo and he lay naked before Thorin with his hands firmly clasped around and jerking the dwarf over him. Thorin whimpered; sickened with himself for the female sound coming from his mouth, but it was all he could do to stop himself from falling off his resolution to be temperate in his passion.

“Thorin. Please, I want to taste your mouth again.” Bilbo said in his innocent voice, so lined with hunger that Thorin had no choice but to lower down again on Bilbo’s naked body and kiss him. Bilbo’s hands came free of Thorin’s hardness and came up to the back of his head again as they devoured each other. Thorin lay fully on Bilbo, the halfling’s legs parted to nearly painful openness. Bilbo’s stiffness hard like a hot blade against Thorin’s lower belly as they moved slowly and teasingly, caressing it, making it throb with pleasure between them. Thorin’s hands caressed up and down from Bilbo’s shoulders over his ribs and his hips, down his thighs to his knees and up again before he started the venture again.

Bilbo was so overcome with infatuation that he had pulled his mouth away from Thorin’s and started kissing every bit of him that he could reach, his chin… his cheek, the tip of his nose, his jaw, his neck and eventually landed on his shoulder where he dug his fingers into the thick muscles and bit down on the flesh there, tears welling up with a sudden urge to cry out from the satisfaction. Thorin chuckled through his moans, loving the vulnerable whimpers of his hobbit under him when he choked and spluttered.

Bilbo was biting and sucking in his desperation, with a lust unrestrained, up Thorin’s neck and fell on Thorin’s ear. The gentle circumference of Thorin’s rounded and larger ear protruding from his long locks and it drew Bilbo’s attention like a moth to a flame. Thorin’s eyes closed and his breath became ragged, turning his head to Bilbo’s mouth that was breathing, sucking and licking and it was sending his desire over the edge and he gripped the ottoman cushion, digging his fingers in, trying to contain it, but he couldn’t… as Bilbo made desperate plaintive cries into the hollow of Thorin’s ear, breathing into it, taking the lobe in his teeth and pulling savagely. Thorin boomed powerfully and kept his head tilted to allow Bilbo to abuse his ear.

“Thorin… oh…goodness…’ Bilbo cried out, heedless to the volume of his voice and Thorin lost his sense of control as well.

“ _Oh…Oh Mahal_ … grant me this wish… _please!_ ” Thorin pulled his sore but extremely sensitive and abused ear away from Bilbo’s mouth, who awed at the removal of it, and gripped the halfling’s hips hard. He groaned like an animal, he placed himself against Bilbo’s opening and was about to enter the hobbit, become one with him. He looked up into Bilbo’s eyes and saw the horror there. He felt himself calm a little… he realized he could not do it like this with Bilbo. He is small… fragile. Thorin promised not to hurt him… he promised. He dropped forward, his hair swinging down into Bilbo’s face as he trembled. The hobbit looked up at him shaking and still holding his breath. Thorin touched the side of Bilbo’s face.

“I…I’m sorry…”

“I thought you were…’ Bilbo said in the smallest voice. Thorin wanted to but he couldn’t. Bilbo lifted his hands, took Thorin by his head and pulled him downward so that Thorin’s ear was once again in Bilbo’s eager mouth and again Thorin screamed low and hard through his teeth, tilting his head, his hips bucking forward drawing Bilbo’s breath out of him in hot moist gasps. Bilbo didn’t realize dwarf ears were so sensitive, or was it just Thorin’s? Forgetting the moment before, Thorin’s craving for the hobbit crawled at his self-restraint, wanting to bury himself inside the hobbit. But the hardness slid up and rested alongside Bilbo’s like two rods.

 _“Ugh… more… don’t hold back, Bilbo! Ah-abuse it… please!”_ Thorin begged in a raspy moan. Bilbo did as asked, he battered Thorin’s ear heartily. Bilbo’s legs clamped hard around Thorin’s middle, pulling him in harder, their bodies swaying back and forth. Thorin shoved his thick hands under Bilbo’s backside and rocked against him, every cry from his hobbit stoking his dwarfish excitement, his eagerness and urgency filling himself and the halfling to a boiling point before it burst over. Thorin pulled his red and savaged ear away from Bilbo’s mouth and he looked down at him, knowing that the halfling was reaching that pinnacle.

 “Oh Th- I’m… I …” Bilbo’s speech canted while he was gripping hard to Thorin’s shoulders as he lifted himself in time with Thorin’s thrust. A plaintive grunt and sigh escaped Thorin’s mouth as he looked down at the hobbit and touched that hard flesh that made him clench.

“It’s okay… let go. I want to see it.’ Thorin puffed every word on a shaky whisper and suddenly felt a wet burning in his eyes, the sensation so intense, the epicenter of orgasmic waves started from the point in which Bilbo and Thorin were connected and rippled out in a great seismic flood, the pleasure so intense he couldn’t keep his eyes open, closing them against the explosion that rocked his and Bilbo’s body with raw shocks of purest meridian. It brought the Bilbo to a howling mass, gasping and crying in a fever pitch that he had never experienced.

Bilbo whispered his dwarfs name in a light airy manner before he groaned, eyes snapping shut and he gritted his teeth. His thighs wrapped around the other’s trembling and slowly thrusting hips as his own molten lust spilled over onto his belly making him convulse and the enamored dwarf king orgasm with a bestial snarl and hastily reclaimed the hobbits mouth.  

Panting and moaning into each other’s mouths, hair being grasped and pulled lightly and nails dragging down skin here and there, the dwarf and hobbit devoured each other’s mouths with indecent fervor. It seemed again to last an eternity until Thorin rolled off Bilbo and on his side. The backside of Thorin’s hand rested on Bilbo’s stomach as he relished the feel of that smooth surface rising and falling in the aftermath of their love making.

“I… I uh… should perhaps get back to dressing your wound.” Bilbo said in a whisper that was answered with a deep exhale. He turned his head and Thorin was teetering on sleep. Bilbo awkwardly flushed and yet smiled because he did believe he was smitten with this dwarf. The account of all the odd sensations and anxiety wasn’t for fear of him. It was because Bilbo was trying to run from how he felt.

“Thorin?” Bilbo whispered. Thorin smiled ever so slightly from his half doze.

“Sleep, Bilbo. We can worry about that in a couple hours.” He muttered. Thorin slid his hand up Bilbo’s tummy and chest and caressed his chin and cheek gently. Bilbo didn’t want to press the matter, not after such a passionate moment, but some quick and decisive action will have to take place when Thorin woke up. Bilbo relaxed and listened to Thorin’s deep breathing, allowing it to lull him to a slight doze as well. He hoped they would wake up before someone saw them. But as his eyes started to shut, he watched Thorin… he decided the dwarf was right. They can wait a couple hours. 


End file.
